


caramel + honey

by Liberte_Egalite_Broadway



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Flirting, But instead here we are, Carlos and Cecil are Dorks, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil Is Not Subtle, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I should be writing my WIP, M/M, Not Beta Read, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Voice of Night Vale, Their love is so pure, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway/pseuds/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway
Summary: "You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard."





	caramel + honey

**Author's Note:**

> I took a break from my WIP, "The Oppressive Limitations of Time", to write some Cecilos that absolutely no one asked for and that I desperately needed. So here we are. If you like this fic, go check out "TOLOT" for a much longer and angstier Night Vale fic. 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the canon statement that Cecil's voice is like honey while Carlos's voice is like caramel (and I totally agree because Dylan Marron's voice is what keeps me going in life), so there you go. Also, I'm experimenting with a slightly new writing style, so if you've read my other fics and this one seems a little different, that's why.
> 
> I'll beta this in the morning. 
> 
> Enjoy!

After their second date, Cecil introduced Carlos to Khoshekh, the floating cat living in the restroom of the community radio station. The floating cat that Cecil seemed incapable of not mentioning at least once every five minutes. 

"He is the  _cutest_ ," Cecil proclaimed as he unlocked the door to the radio station and flicked on the lights. The building was dark and empty after hours, tidied up after the day's broadcasts and awaiting a new morning full of news, traffic, and earth-shaking fear. The lights hummed to life by literally humming a four-second snippet of "The Greatest" by Sia, and then sent a dim glow over the empty station. "So, this is where I work. This is the bloodstone circle, that's Station Management's office, and over here is the broadcast booth." 

Carlos gazed past his own face reflected in the glass to the empty chair and switchboard. The microphone hovered in the darkness, appearing to be attached to nothing. It wasn't difficult to imagine Cecil sitting here, reading the reports that updated the entire community day after day. "It looks... sort of exactly how I expected," said Carlos. "It's nice." 

"Well, I did set it up. And now you can meet Khoshekh." Cecil grabbed Carlos's hand and started down the hallway, and then they both stopped as they simultaneously realized that this was the first time they had ever held hands. "Oh. Um, is this okay?" 

"Oh, yeah, yeah, sorry," Carlos stammered, because it was absolutely okay but also unexpected. He had spent a lot of time watching Cecil's hands - slender fingers wrapped around mugs of coffee, the scar over the center of his palm, his even square nails (usually painted black) - but he had not expected how soft they could be, and yet calloused, and yet so soft. "Yeah, it's okay." 

"Okay. Well, Khoshekh lives back here."

Khoshekh the cat looked like a normal cat, except that he had spine ridges and fangs and floated about four feet above the floor. Cecil let go of Carlos's hand to hug the cat as soon as they entered the room. "Look at you!" he exclaimed. "Who's a good boy? You are, my favorite boy!" He kissed the top of the cat's head and looked back at Carlos, laughing. "Khoshekh, this is Carlos!"

Khoshekh let out a terrifying hiss, and Carlos jumped. 

"It's okay, that's his way of saying he likes you. You can pet him." 

And even though Carlos was allergic to cats, he wandered over and pet Khoshekh's head. Cecil beamed and hugged Khoshekh so tightly that the cat lifted another inch from the ground. 

"See, he already likes you," said Cecil. "As a scientist, do you think that cats should be fed cat food or live rodents? Live rodents are hard to catch, but I want the best for my cat, so I can do it if I have to." 

(It was then that Carlos knew he loved Cecil, but he wasn't sure how to say it yet.) 

 

/

 

Days turned to weeks turned to months, and time passed as it always does - in random nonsensical bursts accompanied by fear and emotion and memories that are not yet a memory. Carlos started to find things belonging to Cecil in his apartment. He started to find that things belonging to him had been left at Cecil's apartment. On what was either their ninth or tenth date (he was starting to lose track now), Cecil leaned against his shoulder and whispered, "I could spend the rest of my life with you." 

(He had the most beautiful voice in the world. It was as rich and sweet as honey.)

Carlos wasn't sure how to respond to that, which was okay. 

He didn't let his personal life interfere with his professional life. He was a scientist. 

(A partial list of things a scientist is: 

  1. Self-reliant
  2. Motivated
  3. Curious
  4. At least 50% alive
  5. Fine).



But he had to admit that there _was_ something a little cute in listening to Cecil chatter away about him on the radio. "Oh my goodness,  _listeners,_ " he sighed one day while Carlos was experimenting in his lab. He always listened to the radio while he worked, ever since that one day when he drove into town listening to the radio and heard Cecil's gorgeous voice for the first time. "While I wait for the next news update, I just  _have_ to tell you about what Carlos did yesterday. It was so sweet. Okay, so we all know that I am a fan of coffee, right? Well, Carlos - perfect, beautiful Carlos, who wears this incredible lavender cologne - bought me a coffee maker. It makes coffee for you! I don't even have to perform the ritual chanting while I grind beans by hand with a hammer anymore!"

When Cecil got excited, his voice swung up in a lilt, and it always made Carlos smile. 

 

/

 

When Carlos spoke now, he sounded different.

Suddenly, his voice conveyed all of the fascinations he's always held for science. Suddenly, his tone was expressive, with more emotion. He'd had that other voice for his entire life, but this one took no time to adjust to. Somehow, it sounded more like him than the other one did. It felt genuine to who he was.

(Cecil was at first taken aback but later thrilled. He joked that they now had a three-octave voice difference as well as a three-inch height difference. Carlos laughed.) 

 

/

 

There are not any human realtors in Night Vale. Carlos learned this when they went apartment hunting, guided by a deer wearing a tie, who introduced himself as Jeffrey and had them fill out a survey to determine their price range. 

Carlos had never owned a house before, but of all the places he  _had_ lived, this one was his favorite. Not only because it was affordable and well-sized, but because it belonged to both him and Cecil. This house was not Carlos's house, it was Cecil-and-Carlos's house or Carlos-and-Cecil's house. It was  _theirs._

And it was only 120 grand. 

The night after officially moving in, they lay on a blanket in the backyard, staring at the changing sky; mostly void, partially stars. 

"Look, you can see both of our constellations!" exclaimed Cecil. He lifted a finger towards the heavens, tracing the air. "There's Aquarius, and there's Taurus."

"Sweetie, it's December. Aquarius and Taurus aren't even in the sky right now." (Except that they were, which was scientifically impossible.)

"I'd like to be a star," said Cecil. Carlos smiled and tucked back a piece of his hair. 

"So you could live in space?" 

"No," Cecil replied dreamily, gazing ahead "So I could shine brilliantly against the oppressive fabric of dark emptiness that is the void. So that when I died, my imprint would burn still in the sky, giving light to an Earth I could no longer see. Dark, and cold. Burning slowly beneath a planet lit by no sun. Illuminated only by my own dying glow." 

"Uh..." 

"But I can't be a star, so I'll be happy if I just get to be yours," Cecil finished. His voice lost the mystical tone it often took on when he talked like this and returned to the state of benign content. Carlos brushed a kiss across his forehead. For a while they lay there in silence, watching a sky that defied logic and sharing a love that defied almost everything else, in the backyard of a home that was theirs.

"I love you more than every star in the sky." 

 

//

 

Carlos's voice was like caramel, but that was not where the magic of it came in. The magic was that his perfect voice was scratchy when he got sick, which meant that Cecil got to stay home from work to take care of him, which meant documentaries and naps on the couch. The magic was that one time Cecil convinced him that they should sing along to the weather and learned that Carlos's singing voice was absolutely terrible in the best way possible. The magic was in the perfectly imperfect ordinary. 

Cecil Palmer loved his boyfriend. 

One morning while Carlos slept, he took out a sheet of paper, snuck a pen from his stash at the back of the closet, and wrote a note. 

"You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard." 

He drew fifteen hearts on it and slid it into the pocket of Carlos's work lab coat. 

Later, while he was at the radio station, his phone buzzed with a text: Sixteen hearts and the words "YOU have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard." 

 

/

 

"I miss you. Please come home."

"I miss you too. And I would come home, except I just  _know_ that I am so close to my biggest scientific discovery! Cecil, I can't just give this up when I am so close."

"I know, I know, but couldn't you just come home for a little while and _then_ go back to the desert otherworld for your discovery?"

"If I could, I would, but it doesn't work like that."

(Phones, Cecil noticed, changed the way that someone's voice sounded.)

 

"I'm sorry you didn't make your scientific discovery," Cecil whispered as they lay curled on the couch. Carlos was home. The Old Oak Doors were all gone. There would be no more desert otherworlds for either of them. 

"It's okay," Carlos whispered back. "It's okay because I did make  _a_ discovery."

"And what is that?" 

"That this is where I belong. Where I  _really_ do belong. If I didn't belong here, I wouldn't have been able to come back. But I  _do_ belong here. I belong with you."

Cecil smiled and closed his eyes. They had talked about their future a lot, and they had decided that their future was together. What that meant right now, he wasn't sure.

(Being unsure is part of being in love. Being unsure is part of being human.)

All that he was sure of was that he had found the love of his life, and that nothing would take them apart again. 

 

/ 

 

Carlos came into the kitchen one Saturday morning holding his phone. "I just got a reminder from Nilanjana," he said. "We're both due for throat surgery again."

Cecil froze. "What?"

"Remember? It's customary for scientists to change their vocal cords every once in a while." 

"Oh no." Cecil tossed the spatula he was holding into the zero-gravity section above their kitchen counter. "No, no, no no. Nilanjana can change her vocal cords, but you are not changing yours." He wrapped his arms around Carlos and kissed the side of his head. "I love your perfect caramel voice."

"I like it too, but I am a scientist."

"And I am your boyfriend." Cecil kissed him, soft and slow, and then pressed their foreheads together, twisting a piece of Carlos's long hair around one finger. "Please do not change your voice. It's so perfect and beautiful. Like you." 

"If it really means that much to you..."

"It does." Cecil kissed him again and went back to making breakfast. 

(The world, he decided, is full of changes, but this one thing at least should stay the same.)

 

/

 

When Carlos talked about science, his voice sped up and took on an excited tone. It was as if the whole world had stopped to listen as he poured out thoughts from his scientific mind, his eyes lighting up and shimmering in the sunlight. Cecil could listen to that all day. 

(His laugh made the sunlight brighter.)

Cecil felt that tone creep into his own voice whenever he sat down in front of his mic, sharing the news and traffic (and details of his personal life) to their beloved town. He knew he wasn't as smart as Carlos when it came to science, but that Carlos wasn't as smart as him in other things, and that both of those things were entirely irrelevant to their happiness together. 

Sometimes they could talk forever about how much they loved being in love, and how amazing was this shared life they had built, and how beautiful the lights in the sky under which they had first shared this feeling. Sometimes they didn't say anything, and in that, communicated everything. 

They knew they would spend the rest of their lives together. That they had however much time was left to them to spend learning everything about each other. 

(Days turned to weeks turned to months.)

 

Cecil sat on the couch with Carlos sitting next to him, their fingertips loosely entwined, and thought,  _I could never be happier than I am in this moment._

"Cecil," said Carlos with his voice like caramel, and then again. "Cecil." 

He sat up. He stood up. He knelt on their living room floor and pulled a black box out of his lab coat pocket, and Cecil felt his heart begin to metaphorically perform acrobatics and literally beat very fast.  _I could not be happier than I am in this moment,_ he thought. 

"Cecil, will you marry me?" 

(It turned out he could be.)


End file.
